


Yellow Paint

by j_gabrielle



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Kingsman: The Secret Service RPF
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M, One-sided feelings, Sadness, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>If I stayed I'd die just a little more on the inside</i>, Half of his heart says, broken like a whisper passed through shattered glass.</p><p>The other half of his heart shouts,<i> But wasn't I doomed the moment he first smiled my way?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Yellow Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not Colin Firth, nor am I Taron Egerton. I am not affiliated with anyone who knows them or are in contact with them. I do not seek to profit from this work.
> 
> Just like in the previous fic, if Graham Norton somehow gets his grubby hands on this, please know that I have only the utmost of love and respect for the both of you. To Graham, no. Just. No.

Livia is the one who opens the door, and the sight of her in Colin's shirt stoppers the words on the tip of his tongue. She beams, greeting him with kisses to each cheek.

"Taron! Come in, come in!" She says, side-stepping one of the boys who came barrelling down the hallway in a blur of hotel sheets.

"Hi Luca, Matteo." Taron says, high-fiving each boy in turn. He smiles, because that is what is expected, goes to sit on the sofa because that is polite.

"He's in the shower, so tell him I'll see him later." Livia says, putting on her coat and methodically stripping her sons of their costumes. She dresses them, packs them into their strollers, gently conversing with them in quickfire Italian. Somewhere in this rented flat, the showers off.

"You boys have a good day, alright?" Livia shoulders her bag, slipping into her sandals.

"We will. I'll make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble." He says, sticking his hands into his jean pockets. He waves at the Firth family as they exit the door.

Taron schools his face, projecting happiness. He drops it the moment the door snicks shut.

"They're gone." He calls out, turning towards the bedroom door. "If this is you trying to be sneaky, you suck at it."

Colin emerges, hair wet from the shower, looking as if he'd just put on his shirt and slacks, grinning mischievously as he covers the distance in long strides with those ridiculous legs of his. Wrapping himself around Taron, he holds on tight.

"Hi." He says, nuzzling against the side of Taron's head.

Taron hides the smile that blooms on his face at the warm vibrations of Colin's voice against his skin. "Hi."

"Come on." Colin says, pulling away to guide him into the room by the hand. Taron sheds his his hoodie, draping it over the back of a nearby chair. He kicks off his shoes, climbing on the bed. He hears Colin chuckle, turning to find the other man slipping into the space next to him. The bed is still warm.

Taron pulls the pillows to his satisfaction, laying his head on them. Colin mirrors him, lying down face to face with him. They do not speak. Lacing their fingers together, they share the silence.

Colin nudges at Taron's calves, urging to open. When he obliges, Colin tucks his feet between them. Outside, the sun was climbing ever higher into the sky. 

Taron shuffles closer, draping his arm over Colin's waist. He feels the exhalation tickle at his forehead. From here he can smell Livia's shampoo - a floral affair that is not cloying, subtle and sweet. Taron thinks that if he dares let his tongue peek out to taste skin, he'd be able to find the ghost trails of Colin's aftershave from yesterday. As it is, he wonders when he first felt so hollow on the inside.

The mixed sounds of Colin's heart beating strong against his ear and the rustling of the curtains in the breeze lulls him to sleep, evening his breathing out.

"I should go." He mumbles, torn between letting himself relax in Colin's arms or pushing himself away to keep another secret safe.

Colin frowns, looking down at him. "Livia won't be home for another few more hours. Stay."

Taron swallows around the bitter lump that swells and swells in his chest, rising high into his throat. _If I stayed I'd die just a little more on the inside,_ Half of his heart says, broken like a whisper passed through shattered glass.

The other half of his heart shouts,  _But wasn't I doomed the moment he first smiled my way?_ _  
_

He gets up, untangling the knot that is their bodies. He doesn't look at Colin, doesn't respond when he sits up, asking, "What's wrong?"

Taron fills his lungs with air. "It's nothing." He says, putting on his shoes. "I just remembered that my agent needed me to meet them."

"But you said that you had today free."

"Yeah, I did." Taron says in a rush, shrugging on his hoodie. "I'd forgotten. It was a last minute thing." He stands, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "So, I guess I'll see you then." He smiles, a little awkward. Turning to go, he barely makes it two steps before he feels strong arms wrap around him. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you. I won't insult you by saying that I do." Colin whispers. "Please don't assume that I care so little for you, that I won't notice when something is clearly bothering you."

Taron steels himself, turning around. Reaching a hand out, he slots it against Colin's cheek, cradling it tenderly, saccharine sweet. In that sliver of time and space, a run of electricity spikes up and down his spine. Taron braces himself, feeling the first twinges of a pain in his chest.

"I'll see you later." He says, tiptoeing a little to press his lips against Colin's, intending to steal a kiss before he leaves. 

Colin lets him draw away by a hair's breadth before pulling him back in, shaping their lips together in familiar and heartbreakingly awful ways. _It will be enough It could be enough It must be enough,_ His mind runs in a litany.

"Don't." Taron says, turning his head away when they break apart for a breath. "I have to go." 

He leaves this time, almost running for the door. He doesn't stop even after he has left. Clenching his fists, he forces himself not to cry on the elevator ride down.

"Taron?"

Taron whips around at the sound of his name being called in the middle of the busy street. Livia stands there, dark eyes wide. "Taron. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He replies, stepping away. "I'll see you around." He pulls the hood tighter around his face, huddling into himself when Livia's slender hand fists into the fabric of his hoodie.

"He loves you, you know?" She says, quiet in the rush of people and the city thrumming with life. "Don't let him tell you otherwise."

Taron looks at her then; drinking in the sight of the one who gets to share Colin's life and bed, the one who he stands with, the one who makes him smile in ways he can never. He covers Livia's hand with his, prying them away from him gently.

"But he loves you most." Taron nods, lips pursed tight. Swiftly turning, he makes an about turn, half jogging against the flow of bodies and people until he reaches the safety of a hidden alleyway.

There, he takes a moment to breathe in the scent of refuse and forgotten parts of humanity. There, he closes his eyes and takes the first of many shuddering sobs.

 

[end.]

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs, Kisses, Love and all to the one who knows what I mean by Yellow Paint.


End file.
